REID X READER – written for a prompt in which Spencer gets a phone call that threatens to kill the reader if he doesn’t kill himself.
Author: @thebeautifultimesofladybrooklynn
Spencer’s phone rang. Furrowing his brows as he looked at it, Spencer was surprised to see a blocked caller contacting him.
Thinking the worst, Spencer answered it shakily.
“Hello, Dr. Reid,” an even, deep voice replied.
“Can I, can I help you?” Spencer spoke into the speak as he typed a text to his girlfriend.
“You can, actually. Please stop typing. The beeping is causing quite a racket in my ears, and besides (y/n) is currently indisposed. I’m afraid she won’t be able to reply.”
Hearing the conversation through the speaker, Morgan quickly called Garcia.
“I swear to God, if you–”
“I don’t want to hurt her,” the voice continued as Morgan asked Garcia to set up a trace on the number.
“So, what do you want?” Spencer swallowed harshly, the spit sticking down his throat like sand, as he watched Garcia frantically typing on her laptop.
“I want you to kill yourself, Dr. Reid. Kill yourself, or I kill (y/n).”
“I thought you didn’t want to hurt her,” Spencer questioned, trying his best to overcome his emotions enough to profile the voice.
“I don’t want to hurt her. I want to hurt you. I can’t just waltz into FBI headquarters and do that though, can I? So either you do what I can’t do and kill yourself, or I’ll kill the only thing that makes your life worth living.”
Looking up from Garcia’s trace, Morgan flashed a piece of paper to Spencer: Cell’s pinging from different towers. She’s trying.
“I think that we should do this in person,” Spencer began.
“No,” the voice blurted harshly, “No, do it now.”
“But there’s, uh, there’s no real assurance here,” Spencer worked to convince the killer, praying to find (y/n) before any harm could come to her, “If you don’t actually see me, you won’t know if I really did it. And if I don’t have someone with me to get (y/n), I won’t know that she’s released after I do.”
“Interesting,” the voice seemed contemplative, “I give you my word that she will be fine. Obituaries are printed everyday, Dr. Reid. When I read of your passing, she’ll be released.”
“Again, I only have your word to go on and that’s not a lot of assurance,” Spencer tried to sound calm as he could.
“Well, I could just end her life now,” the voice said as Morgan rose from the desk and rushed toward the doors, signaling for Spencer to follow him. “If you’d rather not take my deal.
“No, no,” Spencer breathed frantically, “No, don’t hurt her.”
He tried his hardest to keep the voice talking, distract him, stall him, anything to keep (y/n) safe until they found her, but it was for naught. When the sound of the SUV’s sirens rang through the street as Morgan passed through red lights and stop signs, the voice shrieked,
“Not in person!” and hung up.
Immediately, Spencer panicked. The tears that had been building up inside his hazel eyes began to fall from them. His chest heaved as he tried to figure out a way to call the blocked number back, but the phone slipped from his hands and fell by his feet.
“It’s ok, kid,” Morgan said. “They’re close.”
He jerked the wheel hurriedly, the front tire of the SUV jumping the sidewalk as he threw it into park quickly.
Exiting the vehicle, Spencer and Morgan approached the building with their weapons drawn in separate directions. Shocked, Spencer stopped when he saw a man rushing from the building with (y/n) in front of him, a knife to her throat.
“I said not in person,” he yelled as he stopped, shocked that Spencer had beaten his escape.
“Either put that gun to your head or drop it, Dr. Reid.”
“(Y/n), it’s ok,” Spencer’s eyes locked on hers as he spoke, “I promise everything’s gonna be ok.”
“Just drop it, Spencer,” (y/n) cried as the man pushed his blade closer into her neck, “Please don’t hurt yourself. Just let him–”
“No,” Spencer cut her off, unable to hear the words, “No, don’t hurt her. I’ll do it,”
“No, don’t!” (Y/n) screamed through the tears gushing from her eyes, “Don’t, Spencer! No!”
“First you have to drop your knife,” Spencer said as calmly as he could, moving the gun away from the man’s direction, “I have to make sure she’s ok. Drop your knife and I’ll do it. I swear.”
“Drop the knife so you can shoot me?” The man’s voice hissed.
“No, no, I won’t,” Spencer breathed as he positioned his gun to his temple.
“No, Spencer! Please!” (Y/n) wailed, tears streaming over her cheeks.
“Drop your knife and I’ll pull the trigger,” Spencer said stone faced.
The man eyed him momentarily. Needing to see Spencer dead, he pulled the knife into (y/n)’s skin enough to break it before throwing the knife across the pavement.
“No!” (Y/n) continued to cry as the sound of a gun firing blasted through the air and coursed into her ears.
She felt the man’s arm fall away from her body as she cried. Parting her lips in shock, (y/n) looked down to see him lying on the ground, a gun shot to his forehead. Looking up, she was eye to eye with Spencer who held her. His hands moving along her body frantically, Spencer searched for welts, lumps, wounds of any kind.
“Are you ok?” He asked through tear-soaked lips as Morgan moved from the other side of the building, his gun still out.
“I’m fine, Spencer,” she cried as she gripped his shirt tightly in her fists, “why would you do that? Why would you scare me like that?”
“I, um, I knew Morgan had eyes on us,” Spencer reassured her as he tried to steady his breathing, “I knew we’d be ok. I knew he’d shot him as soon as his weapon was away from you.”
Shaking her head in understanding, (y/n) looked down as she tried to slow her tears. When she looked back at Spencer, (y/n) pushed her lips onto his desperately.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” (y/n) whispered as their foreheads remained together.
“I won’t,” Spencer breathed, “Let me see your neck.”
Lifting her head, (y/n) allowed Spencer to check her body where the knife had been held.
“You’re bleeding,” he said before looking to Morgan.
“EMT’s here already, kid,” Morgan said, walking Spencer and (y/n) to the side of the building he’d just come from. “Garcia must have called them.”
“I’m fine, Spencer,” (y/n) said.
“No, you’re not. Please just let them check you?”
She smiled slightly before moving toward them, sitting on the edge of the truck and allowing them to address her wound.
Leaning against the SUV, Spencer watched her lovingly, knowing how close he’d been to losing her, to never seeing her again.
“Hey, kid,” Morgan said as he leaned back on the SUV by Spencer, “What did you mean I had eyes on you? We went opposite directions. For all you knew, I was on the opposite end of the building.”
“Yeah, I know,” Spencer said lowly.
“So, what were you thinking back there with that gun to your head?”
“That I had to keep (y/n) safe,” Spencer said with conviction, “No matter what that means for me.”
